Slithering Surprises
by WildHorseFantasy
Summary: A counterfeit coat operation, villains with a strange taste in security and a missing agent lead Neal and the team to discover more than they bargained for. Set early Season 4. Rated T for safety.
1. Chapter 1

**~ Disclaimer. I don't own White Collar, I just play with it for fun and profit. No relation to any real people that I know of. ~**

* * *

Neal stepped into the menagerie and instantly regretted the rush job on this case. Less than twenty four hours ago, an FBI agent had gone missing investigating illegal knock offs of name brand coats and operation of a sweatshop. The FBI and US customs were both leaving no stone unturned in the search for the woman. Neal had been practically shoved under cover only eighteen hours ago. He hadn't slept since.

Blue eyes blinking wide he looked around. He didn't dare shut his eyes. From the sound, he'd have thought he was in a zoo, or a jungle. Anywhere, really, but New York city.

"Interesting place." He commented, wincing a bit at the smells."

The darkly tanned man gave him a cold smile. It reminded him of a shark. The man's flat black eyes did as well. "Sometimes it is handy to have the fur and feathers fresh. You should see my warehouse."

Neal gaped at the tiger glaring at him. He'd heard of such things of course, but a tiger in a New York apartment he'd never believed. It lunged at the iron bars clawing at them.

"This one is going to a canned hunt. It will make a fine pelt."

Neal felt ill. He hoped the team was getting this. He hoped even more the creep didn't find out he was wired.

"Dargon, what about the ..." He choked to a halt. The man was reaching into another cage, this one with diamonds inside it.

"These go in some of our finest necklaces. Perhaps you'd like to add some to your repertoire?"

"Perhaps. The ladies do love the diamonds." Neal tried to focus on his job, not the snakes slithering in the cage housing the diamonds. "I think they'd be a bit uneasy with where you stored them though."

Jameson Dargon smiled. He lifted one large snake out and handed it to Lena, his assistant, who curled it around her shoulders.

"I prefer brave woman. Only a few are poisonous."

Only a few? Neal forced himself to ask, "so what about the coats?"

"All in good time, my friend. You have the money?"

"I have the deposit. You get it when I see the furs."

"I cannot give you the furs until you give me the deposit. They are not here. My backers are not trusting folks."

Neal pulled the money case away.

"Now now. I can offer collateral." The man offered him the gems.

Neal cautiously studied the diamonds. Without any tools, it looked real enough. He glanced around, shrugged inwardly, took one and tested on his watch. The glass scored easily.

"Fine." He handed over the case, trying not to look to eager to retreat.

"I will call you with the meeting place."

Neal retreated, passing a large bodyguard and multiple cages. At first glance this place had looked like a piece of cake for an experienced thief like himself. Now he wouldn't have touched it with a fifty foot pole and all the gold in Fort Knox. Safes he could crack, alarms he could bypass. To crawl through the window and encounter poisonous snakes? No, thank you!

He walked a few blocks before he hit the van. Jones slid open the door. "What happened in there?"

"You didn't get it?"

"I got audio. But what was all that about cages and canned hunts?"

Neal slumped in the seat, noticing Jones was alone. "Where's Diana?"

"Looking into the stuff they confiscated off this guy at the docks. And I asked first."

"Snakes, tiger, birds..." He was staring at Jones.

"What?"

"It's a menagerie in there. Literally. A tiger! And he had diamonds in with the snakes!" He held it up and studied it before passing it to Jones.

"Canned hunts." Jones growled then, anger growing in his dark eyes. "That's just slaughter. In a real hunt, the animals stand a chance." He paused. "What kind of snakes?"

Neal described them.

Jones eyes widened in alarm and he clenched his fists. Those are poisonous!"

Neal stared. "I was hoping that was a bluff. I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"The stuff we confiscated...we don't know what's in it...it's going to the evidence warehouse...too big to open at the office..."

Neal held on as Jones scrambled to the front of the van, the danger suddenly sinking in. Jones wasn't as wild a driver, normally, as Diana. But the van was careering around corners and dodging through traffic at a speed that would've done her proud.

Neal held on for dear life as he grabbed his cell and dialed Diana. No answer. "It's at the warehouse?"

"Yeah..."

Neal hit Peter's number and the phone rang. If Patterson the clock watcher refused Peter time to take this call, it would be on his own head what ended up loose in the warehouse. Neal just hoped none of his friends would be hurt by it.

"Hello? Neal, I can't talk now..."

"The evidence from the case we're working! Diana was heading over there with it!"

"Yeah, she's just sitting down with it now. It's pretty big and there are a number of crates..."

"Don't let her open them!"

"Neal, what's..."

"We're here!" Jones slammed to a screeching halt in the parking lot. Neal's phone went flying as he focused on not hitting the dash. He didn't bother to pick it up. They both raced for the warehouse. They shot to the locked gate with Jones waving his badge to get the guard to open it and yanking Neal in behind him.

"Where's Diana?" They yelled as Peter gaped at them.

"Aaaaaah!"

Jones and Neal shot after the yell. Peter followed.

Patterson ran past them , going the other way, so fast they barely avoided him.

Diana shot back out of the corridor where the boxes were. Her back was to them and her hand was grabbing for her gun.

An instant later more yells followed.

"Animal control!" Neal yelled. "Someone call animal control!"

He backed away at high speed as the slithering forms of snakes shot toward him. Diana was waving her gun, trying to decide which to shoot first. Jones had his out too, but had the same problem. Neal grabbed the edge of the shelves and scrambled up, hoping none would try to climb.

Peter stared, fumbling for his weapon, then remembered he wasn't wearing it. Diana started shooting and so did Jones. Everybody ducked as the creatures were hit, bullets ricocheted off the concrete.

It was over long before animal control arrived.

Diana spun toward Jones. She glanced up at Neal, who'd shoved an evidence box aside in his haste to retreat. "Did you know about this?" She scowled.

Neal stared down at her, eyebrows raised. "I tried to call!"

Someone yelled down the aisle. "What do we do with the rest of the boxes?"

"Don't open them!" chorused Neal, Jones and Diana.

Peter was leaning forward, studying the remains of the snakes. "These were poisonous."

"Darn right." Jones said. "When Caffrey told me what he saw in that apartment, I knew it was a bad idea to open those boxes."

Animal control opened the rest with the anxious agents looking on. Sure enough, more snakes, various birds and a tiger cub were found. Peter stared amazed, his own cataloguing forgotten. "Well, we sure aren't storing that evidence in this warehouse."

"I should say not!" Patterson glared at the animals, having returned with animal control. He turned the glare on Neal, who was just climbing down off the shelf. No doubt he was peeved at him knocking over evidence. Neal was too busy staring to notice. He had a pensive expression on his face.

"This...is bad." He said slowly.

"You think?" Peter gaped at the mess before them. He may be the one to have to clean it up!

Neal shook his head. "Could they have gotten all these animals through customs without inside help? One or two I could see. But this?"

"They've got someone on the inside." Diana said slowly. "And that means..."

"Nothing good for the missing agent. If she's blown..."

"We just have to hope she isn't."

"Would you mind doing it somewhere else? We know she isn't here." Patterson snorted. Neal glanced sideways at him and Peter was scowling too.

"And don't you have work of your own to do?"

The bristling was imperceptible, but Diana and Jones looked no more pleased than Neal.

"Come on. We have an agent to find." Diana lead them out. Neal cast a glance back at Peter who just shrugged and went back to work.

Neal eyes sparkled as he got to the car. Jones glanced at him, a slight smile forming. Diana halted and spun to face them. "Before either of you say anything, no, it was not me that screamed like a little girl."

"Who was it then?"

Her lip quivered as a smile threatened. "Patterson."

The other two grinned.

Jones shook his head. "I'll bet Peter would've loved a picture of that."

"Too bad I didn't have time to get one."

Neal's smile faded. "Do you think you got them all? I couldn't tell."

"I didn't have time to count either."

"Wait, you mean there might be more in there?"

"Yeah. Don't worry, animal control is looking."

Neal was picturing Patterson amidst the snakes. He grinned all the way to the office. He wouldn't want the guy to get poisoned. But he didn't mind if the snakes smiled at the guy a little.


	2. Chapter 2

Neal being a conman himself, knew that Dargon was trying to con him. The crates in this second warehouse were all shapes and sizes. But even though this whole section was labeled 'coats', the man was subtly steering him to certain containers and away from others. Neal pretended he didn't notice.

Dargon opened a box and motioned for Neal to look.

"Fine quality eh?"

"Excellent! You'd never know they weren't the name brand." He held one up, looking close. It was perfect. The next one was nearly so, though he did spot just a bit of loose thread and a red dot. He eyed it warily. Blood? It could be from a worker pricking a finger on the needle. He didn't comment on it.

"So are you satisfied?" Dargon waved a hand around the warehouse. "Twenty large crates ready to go. I can get you more if you need it...for the right price."

"Then I'd say our deal is done." Neal stepped around the corner of the crate to lay down the samples.

The doors slammed open with a bang. "FBI! Everybody freeze! Drop the gun!"

Neal had already ducked the minute the doors slammed open and FBI roared out. He peered around the corner at Dargon who was halfway to having the gun out and glancing between the Feds and back toward him. Neal was glad he'd put the tall crate between them and ducked behind it. The rage on the man's face was just looking for an outlet. His hard eyes, heavy mustache and red face had murder written on them.

Thankfully, Dargon was hauled out in cuffs, along with his crew without setting eyes again on his supposed buyer. He protested loudly. "This is not mine. He was trying to sell to me..."

Neal rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Sore loser!"

"The bad news is, we really hoped the sweatshop would be here." Jones observed, looking around the warehouse.

"Yeah, but he was keeping me away from some of these boxes. I bet they don't all have coats in them."

"So what do they have?"

"After the last batch, I'll let you guys do the honors." Diana had not put away her gun.

"Gee, thanks." Jones winced.

Neal looked around carefully and approached one. "He seemed particularly anxious for me to avoid this one." He tapped it lightly.

"How can you tell?"

"He was subtly directing me away from it and hoping I wouldn't notice. Trust me, I know the signs."

Jones picked up a crowbar and glance at Diana. Neal held a hand up, walked around the box and leaned on it, ear pressed to the side. "I don't see any kind of air holes and I don't hear any movement either."

"Please, no more snakes." Diana shook her head. "I didn't sign on for animal control."

"Oh I don't know. Another gift for agent Patterson..."

"You really don't like that guy do you?" Diana had her eyes glued to the crate as Jones levered in the crowbar and started prying.

"I don't like how he treats Peter."

"Such bosses are all to common in the working world. Get used to it and be grateful you don't have one."

"I'm more likely to do something about it than get used to it. They make such fun targets...for pranks I mean."

"I did not hear that," Jones blinked rapidly. "But an anonymous photo of one such would not be unwelcome. I can't say I care for the type either. I had one working part time back in high school..." he grunted as the lid cracked loose at last. He shoved it over.

Neal peered in and got a glance at the same time as Jones, who was busy dropping the heavy crate lid. Neal spun away as Jones reeled back a pace. Diana looked in and groaned, her gun dropped.

"Not what we wanted to find." Diana sighed staring at the body.

"I'd definitely rather have found the snakes." Jones shook his head.

"I don't think that's our agent." Neal blinked rapidly. "It's...he's too short." He was steadfastly facing away from the remains, face pale. He was trying to erase the image from his mind, but was stuck realizing he could never unsee it.

"Your right. It's some other unlucky stiff." Jones winced. "No pun intended. I can't believe I said that..."

They retreated to the office. The medical examiner rushed them preliminary results.

"You were right. It's a he not a she. But he was mauled." Diana reported.

"The tiger killed him?" Neal was horrified. It sent a chill through him. He knew tigers were dangerous, but something about a caged creature killing the first victim thrown into it, upset him even more. Odds are it wasn't the victim the tiger was mad at.

"No. He was already dead. Poison. Snake venom. Apparently they hoped the tiger would finish him off."

"I'm surprised it didn't kill the tiger too..." Neal mused.

"They were probably in too big a hurry to think of that," Jones remarked.

"So who was he?"

"Hector Contoro. He was here on a student visa studying medicine. He submitted his visa for renewal, but it did lapse. They only just re approved it. But he hadn't left according to his fellow students. He took a job waiting and hoping the visa would be renewed. He just signed up for classes again."

"So what's his connection to all this?" Neal was frowning.

"We don't know for sure. But he did have a relative living nearby, according to his classmates. That relative helped him get the job. But we can't find any legal relatives."

"So it's probably someone illegal."

"And someone illegal is more likely to have ties to the sweatshop." Neal sighed.

"And we still don't know where the sweatshop is, or our missing agent. Evidence and animal control are going over this guy's apartment."

Neal tapped his fingers on the table. "I can't believe no-one noticed a tiger in the apartment."

"He told the neighbors he watched a lot of documentaries and used nature sounds to relax." Jones snorted.

"And they bought that? Those neighbors must be some criminal's dream come true. We need to find that relative. What about the rest of the crates?"

"The count was short and some of them were obvious counterfeits, even an amateur could spot." Diana paused."What did you mean some criminals?"

Neal stared at her. "Even your average criminal would think twice about a place so lax the neighbor was keeping poisonous snakes!"

The woman, an Anna Moranly, was not at all cooperative with the feds. She was very shy about government agents. She was apparently Hector's aunt, according to what they found in Hector's apartment. And she was their only lead, since Dargon and crew weren't talking.

Neal sat watching with Diana, bored at the stakeout and missing Peter's annoying deviled ham sandwiches and their arguments over radio stations.

"Finally. She's on the move." Someone announced over the radio.

Neal hopped out of the Diana's car. He was dressed casually, jeans and a button up shirt, and a hoodie which covered his face. He tailed after the woman expertly as if she were a mark and he was still a full time thief and conman. But this is not the kind of woman he would have targeted. She was worn, tired in a way that said she'd once been very pretty but life had not been kind. She had the overall attitude of someone used to dodging the law, or at least immigration.

He kept his distance. He followed through subways and onto buses, catching glimpses of Jones and Diana hopscotching through traffic behind him. One good thing about his tracking anklet. At times like this it was handy when going into a bad neighborhood. The hoodie may have prevented him from sticking out like a sore thumb, but it compromised his peripheral vision and definitely wasn't his style. If it weren't for the damp drizzle falling it actually may have called attention to him.

Hector's aunt finally vanished into a warehouse. Neal stopped and looked it over. It's dark streaked bricks looked even darker as the rain picked up. It looked like a fire had blazed near it, leaving soot burned into the brick. The rain picked up and suddenly he was in the middle of a torrential downpour. Scowling, He slowly circled it, murmuring out details into his mike as he went. It had a metal front. He could see one guard the way she'd gone in. Strolling to the other side he found one side done in mismatched metal sheets. There was a large door on this side, big enough to drive a truck in. A truck was parked there, just a plain white box truck with graffiti on it.

"What do you think you're looking at?" Something sharp poked into Neal back with a click. He cursed himself silently. He hadn't even seen the doorway in the dark shadows, let alone the person lurking. He fell back on an old ploy. "An old building perfect for my photography project." He smiled nervously, trying to charm the unseen attacker. He held up a camera he'd slung around his neck for just this purpose. "We're supposed to take pictures of old buildings with history, you know, local history..." he was babbling intentionally, hoping to sound like a college student who'd taken a wrong turn.

"We don't like strangers." The voice was deep and gruff.

"I'll just go then. Lots of other choices in this town."

The man didn't let up his grip. A pair of hands started patting him down and pulled his wallet. Neal winced invisibly. There was more than one of them. He could see one flipping through the wallet.

"There's a price for trespassing."

"I'll be happy to pay the toll." Neal wished Jones and Diana would hurry up. This might be a pair of ordinary muggers or it might be something else. The rain was coming down in sheets now and he was in the shadows.

"You can't afford it. We'll have to get it out of you some other way." One shoved a flashlight in his face.

"Ah! Hey!" Blinking against the blinding light, Neal felt his stomach twist at their words.

"He's a pretty one...he'd bring a good price."

First counterfeit coats, then smuggling exotic animals...now what? The implications had him in knots. They held his wrists behind him as they dragged him into the building. They hauled him downstairs into a basement and through dim hallways. His ears pricked at the sound of the sewing machines. The two buildings must be connected.

Neal got only a glimpse of piles of fabric and half made coats within a roomful of people. He was dragged into a backroom and before he'd processed what he was seeing, thrown in a cage. "Ow!"

He slammed into hard metal bars and concrete. Remembering the tiger, his heart slammed into his ribs. He looked up. The good news was, no tiger. Iron cage, locked to the wall. Straw on the floor. Bad smells, but no tiger or snakes or other man eaters. Just a cage too small to stand in. He sat up, feeling for the transmitter pen. It was gone. He searched his pockets and found his attackers had cleaned them out. He looked around and stripped off the soaked sweatshirt. He was going to need to be real creative to get out of this one, he thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Neal studied the cage. It was locked of course. He carefully analyzed the locks and hinges. He might be able to pick them, but it also had a combination one on it. Then again, pick them with what? He searched himself, and looked around the cage. He poked through the straw. Nothing was there. He looked around the room looking for anything in range. He was wearing sneakers, he could probably lasso things with the laces...but there was nothing close enough. The cage was conspicuously in the center of the room. He wondered about that. He shifted awkwardly. He couldn't stand up or stretch out and he was already feeling cramped. Where were the others? Weren't they tracking his anklet?

That gave him pause. The kidnapper had felt him all over. How did he miss the anklet? Or did he see it and did they have a way to block the signal?

Outside, Jones, Diana and the team were being slowed by a thundering rainstorm. The rain was coming in blinding sheets. An accident happened right in front of them. And even when they found the described building, they still didn't find Neal.

"His last signal was definitely at this building." Jones said firmly. "He has to be here somewhere. No alarm went off."

"It's blocked somehow. The storm...something in the buildings."

"In the buildings!" Jones looked at her. "He's underground! In one of these basements. With the storm that would be enough to mess up the signal. Lots of metals a and it's a bad area even for cell phones and radios at the best of times.

"Well, that's definitely the sweatshop building. Or at least, it's where she went."

Jones nodded. "We need to confirm though. Think he found a way in?"

"I wouldn't put it past him..." Diana felt a nagging in her gut. Peter would've told her to follow it.

"What was the last thing he said?"

"Something about one side being metal." They drove slowly around the block. The rain gave them an easy excuse as they strained their eyes staring at the building. "There. Only side that's all metal. Wait a minute..." He tried to google the address, but they couldn't get a signal, so he called the office. This worked marginally better, as he managed to fight to be heard and hear long enough to get the lowdown.

"This place was a food warehouse until it caught fire a few years back. Place next door has been a bar, a restaurant and a speakeasy and gambling parlor at various times."

"Great. We know where we are but I don't think we've enough for a warrant. We need proof."

"And we can't get it without looking in. The classic legal catch 22."

"Which Caffrey has a unique way of avoiding." She paused, frowning. "I don't know why, but I think he's in trouble."

"Think they got him?"

"Let's circle one more time. This time, look at the buildings around the warehouse."

The rain slackened just enough. Movement caught Jones eyes. "This place is being watched. Hard as it was coming down, he may not have seen them in time."

"Okay. We make a cordon around this place. No-one and nothing goes in and out without us seeing until we find Caffrey...and hopefully, our missing agent too."

"I just hope he didn't find her the hard way!"

Inside, Neal was thinking much the same, when someone finally approached. A hard looking woman with black eyes. Neal knew instantly his charms would be wasted on this one. She was eyeing him like a piece of meat, or like a cat would a mouse it planned to torment.

"Do you have anyone who would pay for your release?"

Neal's brows rose. "Do I need someone?"

"You do. You've been trespassing in my neighborhood."

"I'm a photography student. People knew where I was taking pictures, we have to tell our professors." Neal bluffed. "You don't think they'll come looking?"

"That will do you little good if you are far from here, or left in pieces." Her voice was frost. "And few photography students bear tracking anklets. The police seldom hunt hard if such are found...deceased. And that would take awhile. Signals are scrambled here."

Neal's insides twisted a bit. His mouth was dry. "Having a minor violation does not make one a career criminal. I might know someone who'd pay for my release."

Times like this having Mozzie and that stolen loot, which had plagued him like a dead albatross, was not a disadvantage.

"Give me the number."

"It's in my phone."

"Which you have locked so no-one else can use it."

"I have friends who like privacy."

"Unlock it."

"How about I unlock it and dial and then hand it to you?"

"You will be watched."

Neal nodded. He dialed Mozzie's number, simultaneously clearing the FBI numbers with a finger swipe. It was also handy Mozzie knew the kind of programmer to enable instant inconspicuous deletion in case of disaster. If she saw the FBI pop up on screen he was doomed. He handed it over.

She eyed him suspiciously as she spoke over the phone "Your friend is now our property. If you would buy him back, this is what it will cost..."

Neal could picture Mozzie's reaction. If he went to the feds, it would be Peter and he would tell Diana and Jones. He felt marginally better knowing they would know he was in trouble and be looking for him.

"Now, if he bids high enough, you will be sent home."

Neal was suddenly aware of movement around him. People hurrying to pack up. "Are we going somewhere?"

"This place has become to hot for us. Think of it as an enforced vacation."

"In a cage?"

"Or jail time."

Neal suddenly realized what she'd said, as she was turning away. It collided with his memory of the whispers of the men who'd grabbed him. "Wait a minute. What do you mean if he bids high enough?"

She looked him up and down. "There may be others who will want you more."

"For what?" Neal fought to sound curious and puzzled, not panicky.

"Oh, anything. We don't care."

Neal stared after as she walked away, willing the team to hurry. Then another, disturbing thought arose. What did they plan to do with all the workers? They were witnesses.

People were suddenly flooding the room. They murmured in various languages.

"Wait here." The woman threatening Neal announced. "There will be a group meeting shortly." She turned away.

Neal looked around frantically. He spotted Hector's aunt, called out. She avoided him. "You know they murdered Hector right? She still didn't look. "They're pulling out. They've already proven they'll kill any witnesses. What makes you think they won't kill you?"

Just for good measure, Neal repeated that in more than one language. A few people glanced at him curiously. Some backed away. His lips tightened. They were like children afraid of a monster, hoping if they hid under the blankets and plugged their ears they wouldn't get them too.

"What do you want of me?" Anna suddenly appeared before him, her eyes wet. "Nothing will bring him back. If I talk they will kill me too."

"Help me. I can stop them. They are leaving, and they won't leave witnesses."

"What of you?"

"They plan to sell me. Help me get out."

"I haven't the keys." Her head bowed. "And if I speak out immigration will find me." She began to turn away.

"I don't need a key. Just give me a pin, a needle, a paperclip. I can handle the lock. And I can keep you out of immigration."

Her head jerked around, suspiciously. "You work for the government."

"He does! He must!" A woman beside her cried. "They will deport us. He's another agent."

Neal closed his eyes and shook his head. They knew about the agent. Not good. "I'm not an agent. I'm...a forger." He blinked, as he realized for once the truth was an asset. As long as he left out the detail that he did technically work for the feds. "And I'm the best. I can forge you documents they won't be able to tell apart from the real thing."

Anna eyed him uncertainly.

She wanted to believe him. He could read it in her worried, sad eyes.

The other woman snorted and walked away. "On your own head be it. I'll not risk our lives for this fool."

Anna walked away too. Neal's heart dropped.

The woman came back and started to speak at the head of the group. People moved forward, blocking his view. She was thanking them for their service, offering severance pay. Neal snorted as the blatant lie, then his eyes jerked around. Anna was back.

"For Hector." She whispered handing him a paperclip. "It's all I can do."

"Thank you." He immediately set on the locks while they were distracted. He glanced at her. "About that agent.." he whispered. "What happened?"

"I don't know. But she was in here, as you were. They took the cage to the loading area. They took her out and gave her a shot and took her away. We did not see her again."

Gave her a shot? Neal forced himself to focus on the locks. He could escape handcuffs and cages but drugs were something else. He needed out now!

"...you will all wait here. We will move our trespasser and return with your money."

More likely with a hit squad. Neal thought, alarmed. He had already done the combination lock earlier. Now it was just the key hole locks that held him. Two down, one to go. The sound of a fork lift came at him. People were parting for it. Suddenly it registered what else Anna had said. First they moved the cage and then came the drug. The fork lift slammed into the pallet beneath him and lifted up the cage. Neal was sprawling on the floor, losing and then re grabbing the paperclip before it vanished. . He glanced up. The forklift driver was backing them out and couldn't see him... He turned back to the lock.


	4. Chapter 4

Jones and Diana were not surprised when Peter burst into the van. He'd called a few minutes ago and said he'd heard about Neal. But he refused to discuss it over the phone. It was Saturday, but with an agent missing, weekends off didn't happen. Unless of course, you were at a dead end job in the evidence warehouse.

"So what do you know?" Diana asked as he shut the door.

"Mozzie showed up. He says he got a woman who said "Neal is her property. She'll sell him to the highest bidder."

Jones cursed. "Well, he's got to be in there. No-one's been out but there's a lot of movement by the few windows. And we can hear motors."

"How did they get him?"  
"Tailing a woman. The storm broke hard. He probably wouldn't have seen the guys watching the building. We only did because it let up." Diana said.

They stared at the large doors.

"Any other way in or out?" Peter asked.

"Two small side doors. We have people on them. But we think they're more likely to hide him in a crate."

* * *

The last lock slipped away. A man with a large needle and two more with guns were standing around the warehouse's garage. But they weren't prepared for Neal to leap out before the fork lift stopped, let alone lowered him to the ground. Neal bolted for the exit. His eyes caught glimpses of canisters along the way. He shot past people setting them up along the halls. The yells of 'stop him' rang out behind, but he was past before anyone registered he was the target. He ducked as a shot rang out.

"Don't shoot you fool! That's flammable!" Sweating and yet chilled at the same time, Neal slammed into the big garage style door and yanked up. Sheer adrenaline gave him strength to force it open a crack. He rolled out underneath as the guards came to cut him off. He raced into the darkness.

"Look!" Peter cried but they all saw Neal racing away from the building, dodging and weaving through a hale of bullets.

Diana jumped into the van's driver seat, cranked the engine and floored the accelerator. They zoomed forward and Peter threw open the back door. Bullets bounced against the van as Neal leaped in.

"Guys, I think their going to blow the warehouse and the workers are still in it!"

"They've explosives?"

"That's how I got out. If they'd been able to shoot in there I'd have never made it!" He was breathing hard, running a hand through sweat streaked hair.

"I think we have a hostage situation on our hands..." Jones said worriedly. "They know someone is watching now."

"Yeah...what's that?"

There was a violent outpouring through the gates, a battle to exit with a mass trying to leave and a mass trying to stop them. None of the onlooking feds dared fire, not knowing who was the good guy or who was the criminal.

Neal sighed with relief. "They believed me."

"Who?"

"The workers. I warned them these people wouldn't leave any witnesses."

It proved messy. Far fewer were hurt than expected, because the villains didn't dare use the weapons inside the building. It was mostly bruising and twisted limbs. The workers just wanted out. They fled into the surrounding neighborhood, though the agents did give chase. There was one explosion and the building started to burn, but everyone was out by then and since fire and the bomb squad had already been called, they gained control quickly.

"We don't know if we got them all." Diana frowned, watching the mop up. "They may have tried to run pretending to be sweatshop workers."

"Well, you got the queen snake." Neal pointed at the woman.

"That's Anita Dargon."

"I should've known. She has her brother's charming attitude." Neal shook his head.

"And still no sign of our agent?" Peter asked.

Neal winced. "Actually...yes...I think they sold her."

"Sold her! To who?" Diana spun to stare at him.

"They didn't say. Hector's aunt told me she was in the same situation I was. They drugged her and took her away."

"So she's probably alive somewhere."

"Somewhere." Neal said grimly. "She'll know." He nodded at Anita Dargon. The woman's eyes spat hatred at the agents cuffing her and reading her rights.

The woman, Anita Dargon, sat smugly in interrogation. She refused to say anything and the lawyer denied all charges.

"She's counting on the illegal workers not coming forward." Jones looked disgusted.

"Where's Caffrey?"

Jones looked around. "I don't know...there he is."

Neal came in with Hector's aunt. Her head was high and she had a firm step.

"That woman killed my Hector. He found out about your missing agent. He had his visa to go back to school. He said he would go to the police. He was legal and was less afraid. He said he would find a way to protect me. Then there was 'the accident.' But it was no accident. I found him when he was dying. He said one threw the snake at him. I would have gone for help, but there was no time. He told me to hide. When I came out he was gone." She closed her eyes tightly. But I was close enough to hear his last breath. I know they killed him.

"Ms. Dargon was sure no-one would come forward."

"She was sure I had no papers and feared immigration. And the others as well."

"We can help with that, but it's hard to get a word in edgewise when the people flee."

"We have been deceived before by governement agents offering help, only to betray. But … if you will help, I will help them come forward. I have papers now. I'm safe."

An agent took the woman's statement. Diana stared hard at Neal. "Just like that, she now has papers? Twenty four hours ago she didn't."

"She has a green card. Desperate times, desperate measures. It's not like she's a terrorist. She's a victim." He didn't admit that he'd forged it.

Diana shook her head, glancing at Jones. Plausible deniability. It wasn't hard to guess Caffrey had forged the green card. But at least it gave them time to find legal ways to help their witnesses overcome their fears of immigration long enough to testify.

Two nights later, Neal stopped over at Peter's house with the news. "She rolled in a hurry when the sweatshop workers lined up against her and her own men started rolling. Cut a deal to avoid the death penalty for telling where Agent Salmoro was."

"They find her?"

"Interpol rescued her from a slavery ring in Spain." Neal gave a tight smile. "She on her way home. Traumatized, furious...but she'll live. The only loss was the tiger." Neal looked grim. "They didn't think it was safe to re home since it...ah..well all the other animals found more appropriate homes. Even the snakes."

"Speaking of trauma...I have something to show you. You were right, they didn't get all the snakes. One crate got knocked over when our guys were retreating. Fortunately there weren't any poison ones in it."

Neal's eyes widened. "So you've had to chase snakes all over evidence."

"As well as clean up why the mess Diana made of the last batch. But it wasn't all bad. You're good at keeping secrets." Peter called up a picture on Elizabeth's laptop. "Here."

Neal's smile started slow and then he started to laugh.

"El added the caption."

"I want one!"

"Later. I'll get you a copy when I'm safely out of evidence. I wouldn't want him to know I took it."

Agent Patterson was on his desk, leaning back and holding up a chair, looking horrified. Below a common black snake reared up and looked back. The thought bubble caption read: Hi, if you see someone without a smile, lend him one of yours."

Neal could hear Elizabeth laughing in the kitchen.

"This is just one more reason to get you back to White Collar in a hurry. I have got to have this picture and show it around the office!"

* * *

Thanks for all the nice comments!

And also thanks to for the photos used in the cover image

And of course, to White Collar! Happy viewing!


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